


It Takes Time.

by Phoenecid



Series: Movie/TV/Game AU's [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Moonrise Kingdom - Freeform, Moonrise Kingdom au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-10-21 09:36:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20691353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenecid/pseuds/Phoenecid
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier are in love. Unfortunately, they're only thirteen so they believe the only way they can ever be together is if they run away.(Moonrise Kingdom AU)





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Moonrise Kingdom is one of my favourite Wes Anderson films (admittedly ALL Wes Anderson films are my favourite but, anyway) - I couldn't resist doing a reddie au considering they fit the premise so well. The adult characters are going to be a bit different (in fact I have borrowed various characters from a certain Strange tv show.) 
> 
> They're 13 so don't expect anything other than teeny tiny kisses on cheeks
> 
> No beta so please contact me about any mistakes. 
> 
> I tried very hard to get into Wes Anderson's style, tell me if it didn't work asjkdf
> 
> am I going to continue this? who knows

Eddie Kaspbrak sits in a windowsill, at the very top of a rickety three-story house perched on a hillside. A weather vane swings, creaking on the roof - tree-tops swing in a cluster below. The sea almost invisible in the heavy mist of the rain, the mainland but a shadow.

In his hands he holds a book, he lowers it quickly - swapping it for his binoculars around his neck. He puts them to his face, and peers out into the heavy rain. He watches wet branches shake as the rain hits, he sees a man in a fishing boat and he sees a pure white colt in a field.

\-- 

He lives on the island of New Penzance, sixteen miles long. Forested with pine and maple. Crisscrossed by shallow tidal creeks. There are no paved roads but many miles of intersecting foot-paths, dirt trails and a ferry that runs twice daily.

Eddie and his family aren’t the only occupants of the small island. In a clearing in the woods ten small khaki tents are pitched in even rows, a banner on a flagpole flutters in the wild. It reads;  **Camp Hawk.**

Scout Master Harrington starts to take a sip of coffee from a metal cup, he pauses and looks up from his magazine. “Who’s missing?” He asks, he silently reels off a list of names as he scans the troops sat next to him. He turns and shouts across camp; “Tozier! Breakfast!” 

When there’s no response he gestures to a tall boy with dark hair, wearing a khaki uniform with a yellow necktie wrapped around his neck. This is Bill Denbrough. Bill nods and turns to the bell, ringing it to signal breakfast. Silence. Closing his magazine, Harrington flicks his lit cigarette into a red bucket- labelled ‘fire’. He rises, absently picking up a piece of bacon to chew on as he walks down the row of tents. Eventually arriving at tent seven. 

“Tozier, you in there?” He questions, tugging on the tent flaps. He turns to the Khaki Scout crouching next to him. This is Stanley Uris. He remarks, “It’s zipped from the inside, Sir.”

The rest of the scouts begin to surround them, holding tight to their metal breakfast plates, watching curiously while they eat. Scout Master Harrington begins to look concerned, “Richie?” he asked softly. With still no verbal response, he reaches into his pocket and grabs his folding knife, unfolds it, finding a small apparatus with a hook on the end. He crouches and slides the small hooked object inside a gap at the bottom - finding the zip and using the apparatus to unzip it fully. 

The inside of the tent is, as usual; a mess. The lining of the tent is printed with images of trees and pine cones. There’s a foot locker, a gas lamp, a chair with a folded blanket over it, and an empty cot. Scout Master Harrington steps inside slowly, crouched over, examining the space. He lifts the lid of the foot-locker. He looks under the corner of the mattress. On top of the pillow on the coat he sees a piece of folded yellow notebook paper. Harrington opens and stares at it. He turns suddenly to the chair with a blanket that’s set against the wall and slides it to the side. 

There’s a neat but jaggedly cut hole in the fabric. Scout Master Harrington turns to look at the surrounding troop; 

“Jiminy Cricket. He’s flown the coop.”

\--- 

The Letter reads: 

**Dear Scout Master Harrington, **

**I am very sad to inform you I can no longer be involved with the Khaki Scouts of North America.**

**The rest of the troop will probably be glad to hear this. It is not your fault.**

**Best wishes, Richie Tozier.**

\-- 

A fast current runs along a shallow ravine deep in the forest. There is a lanky awkward boy rowing a mini canoe that is severely overloaded with boxes, bags and blankets.This boy is Richie Tozier. He wears a pellet gun slung on a strap, a raccoon skin cap -there’s a sash across his chest that is decorated with a number of small, embroidered patches. He whistles quietly as he steers his small canoe under a fallen tree-trunk and winds through gentle rapids. As he comes to a stop at a river bank, he climbs out and covers the boat with a camouflage net and dresses the top with pine-needles. He nods to himself, smirking, satisfied with his work - he turns and hikes through the trees. The bag on his back is almost larger than him, it’s filled with stakes, metal poles and two bed-rolls. 

From a distance someone watches him on his trek, the grass reaches his chest and flows as he moves. Richie pauses to check his compass, a befuddled look crossing his face - he swings in one direction before frowning, shaking his head and turning back. He walks onward and raises his head. He stops. 

Eddie lowers his binoculars, he stands at the end of the path facing Richie. He holds a leather folder in one hand; a portable record player in the other. Plus a small suitcase and a kitten in a basket at his side. 

Richie reaches up, removing his raccoon-skin hat slowly, he takes long strides along the meadow. Eddie watches him as he approaches, he swallows nervously; lips parting as Richie comes to a stop ten feet in front of him. 

They stare at each other.


	2. One Year Earlier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, the wes anderson style of writing gets me down.
> 
> \- lemme know about any mistakes please.

**One Year Earlier ** \- 

It begins in the same place it will end; in a church. 

The deep indigo of dusk is prevalent, the only thing lighting the darkness, is a church that stands proudly on top of a bluff overlooking the bay, the garden around it is remarkably overgrown with wisteria and ivory. There’s a play in progress inside, an ark with a sail has been built on the platform behind the altar, with two teenagers crouched in the wings moving a blue sheet across the foot of the stage; this is meant to represent water. The rest of the room is dimmed, with only tall candles flickering along the centre aisle lighting the way. 

A large congregation fills the pews, as well as the folding chairs placed against the walls. Khaki Scouts and Scout Masters occupy the rear section of the church. A younger troop, dressed in a slightly different uniform with a bright yellow bandanna - sits by the exit. Richie Tozier sits near the aisle, looking terribly bored. As cymbals crash, Richie stands and as discreetly as he is able, wanders toward the side door. A slight, older man in the same uniform watches him from the end of the pew, frowning.

Richie sneaks into the lobby, the sound of the music from the play deadening when the door shuts behind him. He pulls on a brown scout cap with ‘**Junior Khaki**’ stitched on the bill. He nods his head, determined to find something fun to do. He looks around the room he just entered, it’s jammed with children dressed as animals - whispering and shuffling as a large woman stares through a small window into the main area of the church with her hand on a doorknob. This is Ms. Kaspbrak. She snapped her fingers without turning, the children fall silent.

She swings open the centre doors, music once again fills the room, the first twenty children begin to sing and they march out, two by two. 

The doors close behind them and the next group takes their place to wait for their turn. 

Richie walks slowly among the otters, monkeys, squirrels and various other animals - examining their costumes, touching horns, tusks and teeth. He is invisible to them, he takes a sip from a nearby water fountain and then slips out through a swinging door. A dark corridor faces him. Voices murmur. He pokes his head round a corner to have a look, but a rack of choir robes blocks his view. He slides the clothes apart and looks into the curious room.

Five eleven-year-old's decked in leotards, adorned with fake wings and various feathers, are sitting on a bench in front of a mirror framed excessively with bright light bulbs. They chat quietly and fix their face paint. Among them is Eddie, dressed with black feathers - Richie can’t help but stare. He once again, nods, determined - and steps into the light. They spot him in the mirror and like the birds they’re dressed as flutter and cover themselves with their wings. 

Richie removes his cap, and takes another cautious step forward, his eyes dart briefly over the others before returning resolutely to Eddie. He asks; “What kind of bird are you?” 

Eddie hesitates, glancing at the girl next to him who begins to answer in a bossy tone, “I’m a sparrow, he’s a dove and sh--” 

Richie paid no attention to this and does not look away from Eddie when he interrupts pointing. 

“No. I said; ‘What kind of bird are  _ you _ ?’”

Every pair of eyes in the room snaps to Eddie, he pauses, obviously still nervous, “I’m a raven.” He lifts his beak higher on his forehead, a confused look on his face. The others look annoyed but transfixed on the scene. The bossy girl scoffs and frowns, “ _ You’re _ not allowed in here.” 

Richie’s gaze still does not leave Eddie as he answers: “I’ll be leaving soon.” He points down to Eddie's lap to his bandaged hand, “What happened?”

Eddie huffs, put out; “I hit a mirror.” 

Richie, taken aback asks: “Really? How’d that happen then?” 

“I lost my temper at myself.” 

Richie is deeply, deeply intrigued by this, while the others look puzzled. Eddie pushes the limp hairs back off his face, he watches Richie nervously. “What’s your name?” He asked. 

“Richie,” he answers, “What’s yours?” He scuffs his shoe nervously on the floor, waiting for the answer. 

“Eddie.” 

Richie nods, eyes still glued to his. Eddie bites at his fingernails anxiously. The bossy girl rolls her eyes viciously. “It’s not polite to stare, ya know.” They both ignore her. 

Ms. Kaspbrak steps into the doorway, “Birds! Ready?” She does a double-take spotting Richie. 

“Who are you? Where’d you come from? Go back to your seat!” 

Richie hesitates, eyes lingering on Eddie for a while longer, before he turns and ducks out through the clothing rack, and is gone. A skinny girl dressed as an owl watches Eddie, still staring at the spot where Richie was. She whispers to him; “He likes you.” 

\-- 

The Khaki Troops flood out from one side of the church, while the children dressed in animal costumes exit from the other. The children criss-cross among the grave-markers and head-stones, Richie stops abruptly - face to face with the skinny owl. She whispers to him and points behind her, before thrusting a scrap of paper into Richie’s hand. She scurries away. 

\--

The note reads: 

**Write to me. **


	3. Inventory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They take inventory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok oops, heres another chap today ew 
> 
> still no beta 
> 
> r + e are hard to write dude

Richie and Eddie face each other in a vast meadow, Richie asks, carefully; “Were you followed?” 

Eddie turns, and checks behind him, “I doubt it.” 

“Good!” Richie tilts his head and squints, his glasses magnifying the action, “Did you bring a cat?”

Eddie nods, Richie smiles. Eddie smiles. Richie reaches into his pocket and whips out his map, “I feel we should go half-way today and half-way tomorrow, since you’re the less experienced hiker,” he looks down, “and you’re wearing Sunday-school shoes.” 

\-- 

Richie and Eddie look through Eddie’s binoculars at a deer that’s drinking from a stream. Eddie whispers: “He knows someone's watching him.” Richie nods, he asks why Eddie thinks that, “I don’t know,” Eddie responds, “I just think he can feel us.”

They walk together across a fallen tree over the stream, Richie notices a snake swimming on the surface below them, he doesn’t tell Eddie. As he jumps off the log he holds out his hand to help Eddie onto the far bank. 

“Are you thirsty?” Richie asks, concerned. “If you are, put a pebble in your mouth and suck on it.” He bends and picks up two pebbles, they both put one in their mouths. They click harshly against their teeth. A few seconds pass, Richie looks noticeably disappointed, but he shakes his head; “I have water too.” 

\--

They continue on their journey, until they come to the banks of a large pond. Their bags, boxes and suitcases are arranged around a small tent, decorated with tribal symbols. The kitten sleeps peacefully off to the side. Eddie stands at the water’s edge as Richie yanks the camouflage net from the canoe and says, gravely: “How strong of a swimmer are you?”

They’re in the middle of the lake, Eddie at one end of the canoe fishing with a bamboo pole - Richie at the other, his fingers draped off the side. He stirs the water, “Watch out for turtles. They’ll bite you.” He dips a net into the lake and brings it up with a small turtle in it. He lifts it out of the net, it has red and yellow markings and a slightly damaged shell. There is writing on the underside of its belly. “Somebody wrote on it,” Richie remarked, upset.

The fishing pole jerks suddenly in Eddie’s hands. He yells; “The stick’s moving!” Richie jumps to his feet and heaves the turtle with two hands, it sails through the air across the pond and splashes down with a whack. He yells; “You’ve got one! Fish on the hook!” 

The canoe rocks violently, Eddie’s face creased with anger, he snaps: “Sit down!”

Richie’s giddy grin doesn’t falter as he sits back down, Eddie winds the reel in carefully. Richie says; “You’re doing good.” He says gently, encouragingly - he points to one of the patches on his sash. It has a rod and reel embroidered on it. “It’s for fishing!” He’s proud. 

\--

They’re sat on the lake shore, at dusk. Richie twists a stick with a shoelace in kindling and builds a small camp-fire circled by rocks. He’s cooking to fish in a frying pan over it. He throws on some salt, grinds the pepper and flips the fish in the air. He holds out a bite on a spatula to Eddie sitting on the log next to him. He tastes it, he looks surprised and nods enthusiastically; “It’s very good. You know a lot about camping, don’t you?” 

Richie stiffens and points to one of the patches on his sash, it has fried eggs and bacon on it. “I’m a Khaki Scout. It’s what I’m trained for.” He looks into the fire, tilting his head, “At least I used to be.” 

He hands Eddie’s portion of the fish to him, along with a knife and fork set. He glances at the kitten beside Eddie, “We can feed your kitten the eyes and guts.” 

Eddie points to a cardboard box, "He only eats kitten food." Richie glances inside. It’s filled with ten unopened cans of cat food. 

Richie’s eyebrows raise, “What else did you bring? We should make an inventory.”

He flips open a small, spiral bound note-book; “Go ahead!” 

Eddie opens the top of his portable record player, he displays it like a salesman, “This is my record player. It works with batteries.” He looks sad, “Actually it belonged to my father. Do you like music?”

Richie nods, and makes a note, Eddie opens the leather folder - there are three L.P. records in it. He takes one out, “This is my favorite record album. My godmother gave it to me for my birthday. She lives in France.”

Richie nods again, and makes another note. Eddie opens his suitcase, it’s filled to the brim with hard-back copies of fantasy books - it contains no other items of any kind. 

“These are my books,” He says excited, “I like stories with magic powers in them! I couldn’t bring them all because it got too heavy.” He looks up at Richie nervously, biting his bottom lip, “You can borrow any you want.” 

Richie smiles, nods and again, makes a note. 

Eddie produces a few more items; “I also brought my lefty scissors because I'm left-handed, my toothbrush, some band-aids, my hand sanitizer, extra batteries, and my binoculars, as you know. I forgot my comb.” 

Richie surveys the entire collection of articles. He scratches his head confusion abound;

“That's it? No flashlight? No canteen? No waterproof matches? Didn't you get the packing list I sent you in my last letter?”

Eddie frowns deeply, “I thought that's what you're supposed to bring. I don't own a canteen.” He looks sad, bothered.

They stare at each other, for a moment. Richie begins to smile, goofy; “That’s okay! We can share!”

He picks up one of the books, it’s called; ‘The Girl from Jupiter’, Richie examines the other books in concern, he looks very puzzled. “These are all library books, they’re going to be over-due” he says, bluntly, “Did you steal?”

Eddie nods guiltily, reluctantly. He stares at the books, absently brushes some non-existent dust off them. He rearranges them slightly, sighing soft before finally saying; “I might turn some of them back in someday, I haven’t decided yet,” he shuffles his feet, “I know its bad, I think I just took them to have control. It makes me feel in a better mood for some reason.”

Richie thinks about this, he leans his chin against his fist, he asks; “Are you depressed?”

  
Eddie bites at hit perfectly shaped fingernails and shrugs.

“Why?” he asks bluntly 

There’s a pause and Eddie responds philosophically; “Well I can show you an example, if you want?” He gulps, steadying himself, “but it doesn’t make me feel very good - I found this on top of our refrigerator.”

He goes into his leather folder and shuffles through some pages, he withdraws a small pamphlet

\---

The pamphlet reads:

**Coping with a Very Troubled Sick Child.**

There’s a broken teacup on the cover.

\--- 

Richie frowns, his eyes widen behind his large glasses, “Does that mean you?”

Eddie nods morosely, downtrodden. Richie explodes with laughter. 

Eddie is instantly defensive, face closing off and eyebrows drawing together in anger;

“It's not funny.” 

Richie slaps his knee and shakes his head; “To me, it is!” 

He continues to shake with laughter, Eddie dumps his fish into the campfire and throws his metal plate like a frisbee into a tree trunk. It bounces off with a ping, he stands up and sayings coolly; “You really know how to make friends.” He walks away, heading behind a bush and sitting on a rock. He begins to cry. 

Richie looks stricken and confused, he is very still. He gets up slowly, tentatively he approaches the bush, he looks behind it and takes two steps closer. He stands above Eddie, he unties his neckerchief and crouches down holding it out.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie looks up at him, he hesitates before taking the neckerchief, “That’s okay.” 

Richie stands there, cautiously he says, “I’m on your side.” 

Eddie nods, “I know.” He dries his eyes, he unfolds the neckerchief and studies its design, it is an arrow being shot while off to the side there’s a galloping horse. Richie motions to the books, “Which one is the best?” he asks. 

\--- 

Richie lies on his back on one of the bed rolls, casually smoking while Eddie sits with his legs criss-crossed next to him. He reads aloud from a book called ‘The Francine Odyssies” 

“His eyes downcast, his kingdom in ruins, Mynar pressed his heavy paw through the

rippling surface of the cool shallows and down to its stone floor--”

Eddie looks to Richie, he is asleep; Eddie reaches over and takes the cigarette from his mouth and throws it in the camp-fire. He draws a blanket over his chest and continues to read. 


	4. A History of Correspondence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A History of Correspondence between Richie and Eddie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one - I struggled with this I didn't know how to write it hngh 
> 
> lemme know about any mistakes.

A screen-door bangs open, Mrs Kaspbrack quickly descends the front stairs, running from her house towards Captain Hopper, “Eddie has a pen-pal!” She’s holding a shoebox filled with a staggering amount of multicoloured paper in her hands, “They’re very intimate! They planned this together!” 

Captain Hopper takes a handful of the letters, he flips through them - studying them intensely. He mutters to himself; “Richie Tozier, my missing Khaki Scout, his family died.” 

Mr. Kaspbrak takes his own handful of letters and flips through them. He stops suddenly. He looks horrified. “Holy Christ, what am I looking at?” 

Nestled in with the letters is a small painting on construction paper - of a boy, stepping into a bathtub. He has a flower in his hair. 

Mrs Kaspbrak continues to shout, angry- “He does watercolours! Mostly landscapes, but a few nudes!”

Mr. Kaspbrak stares at the painting. He squints at it and asks: “Do you think he sat for this?”

_ A History of Correspondence: _

Richie stands, dressed in a greasy jump-suit, writes at a work-bench in a garage while six teenagers take apart carburetors behind him. They are his foster brothers. He writes:

**Dear Eddie, You have a lovely voice. ** **  
** ****

**You were my favorite animal in the program,**

**by far. Please, find enclosed --**

Eddie writes at a small desk on the upstairs landing while his mother plays a loud articulation on a red piano behind him, (Sonia turns the pages of the sheet music.)Eddie writes:

**   
Dear Richie, Thank you very much. I got**

** replaced as the raven because I yelled at**

** mother. After that I was only a blue**

** jay, but --**

Richie works in an alley emptying garbage from several small trash cans into a larger one. Mr. Billingsley watches television in a window, smoking a cigarette. He points to a crumpled wrapper on the ground. 

Richie picks it up:

**Dear Eddie, I am sorry your mother is**

** so selfish. Maybe she will grow out of**

** Sometimes people do things without**

** knowing the reasons for --**

Eddie reads a book called Disappearance of the 6th Grade; there is an illustration on the cover of a school-teacher levitating at the front of her classroom. Behind him there are several watercolor pictures taped to the wall. Most are landscapes of small-town vacant lots. One is a small boy underwater.

** Dear Richie, You are an excellent painter,**

** especially trees and telephone poles. Is**

** the boy in the water supposed to be me?**

** My favorite color is --**

Richie stands in pajamas staring blankly, eyes wide, watching a dog house in flames next to a rusty swing-set. A dachshund sits next to him, head tilted - also watching. Mrs. Billingsley comes running out of the house with a fire extinguisher.

** Dear Eds, I accidentally built a fire**

** while I was sleep-walking. I have no**

** memory of this, but my foster parents**

** think I am lying. Unfortunately, it is --**

Eddie stands in the kitchen looking out through a pane of glass with a hole smashed in the middle of it. Mrs. Kaspbrak is next to him with her hair hanging over the sink while the two

of them carefully pick bits of glass out of it.

** Dear Rich, I am in trouble again because I**

** threw a rock through the window. My mother**

** still has glass in her hair. Also --**

Five of Richie’s foster brothers watch calmly as the sixth throws Richie against the wall then jumps on top of him, pinning his arms to the floor while Richie struggles crazily.

  
** Dear Eds, I have been trying very hard  
**   
** to make friends, but I feel people do not**

** like my personality, or my jokes. In fact, I can  
**

**understand why they might --**

A classroom of sixth graders watches in a panic as Eddie throttles one of his classmates. The classmate flails and struggles as he is strangled.

** Dear Rich, Now I am getting suspended**

** because I got in a fight with Patrick. He**

** says I go berserk. Our principal is**

** against me. Why do --**

Richie does sit-ups on a hard mattress in a basement room lined with bunks. He counts out the repetitions under his breath. There is a small, black and white photograph of a man and woman at their wedding tacked to the wall above him.

**Dear Eds, I know your mother and aunts hurt your**

** feelings, but they still love you. That**

** is more important. If they-- **

Eddie stands in a doorway screaming at his family while they watch wearily from the dinner table with forks and knives in their hands.

  
  
** Dear Rich, I do think you should think of**

** their faces every day, even if it makes**

** you sad. It is too bad they did not leave**

** you more pictures of themselves. Can you --**

Richie writes in his bunk crouched beneath a blanket, his raccoon cap firmly on his head with a Khaki Scout flashlight pointed at his paper.

** Dear Eds, Here is my plan.**

Eddie writes in his bed crouched beneath a quilt with a plastic lantern glowing beside him.

**Dear Rich, My answer is yes.**

* * *

** _ Dear Eddie, When?_ **

** **

** _ \-- _ **

** **

** _ Dear Richie, Where?_ **

* * *

Eddie kneels in the dark, crouched in front of an upper window with the shoe-box of letters beside him. Outside, the woods are pitch black beyond a moonlit field.

** Dear Eds, Walk four hundred yards due**

** north from your house to the dirt path**

** which has not got any name on it. Turn**

** right and follow to the end.**

Eddie raises his binoculars to his eyes. 

** I will meet you in the meadow.**


	5. Deputized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen

The morning following Richie and Eddie’s disappearance. 

Captain Hopper, Scout Master Harrington, Mrs. Kaspbrak and Mr. Kaspbrak stand in two groups talking. Stanley Uris and Bill Denbrough stretch a string with ribbons tied to it from stake to stake marking a perimeter. Mike Hanlon walks with a wire-haired terrier pulling at its leash. The other scouts, Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom search the field and scan the horizon. 

Mr. Kaspbrak stands off to the side by himself poking at the ground with a stick. He has two black eyes, and half his face is swollen and purple. Scout Master Harrington mutters quietly to himself: “What happened to him?”

Mr. Kaspbrak says loudly without looking up from the ground: “He stole the batteries out of my flashlight.” His voice is ice cold.

Scout Master Harrington looks at him and grimaces. Mrs. Kaspbrak stands next to Captain Hopper. They move slightly away from the others silently. Captain Hopper whispers

quickly, almost inaudibly,“Did you hit him?” 

“No.” She says defensively, “He fell in a ditch.”

  
  


Bev pops up from below the tall grass and thrusts an empty can of cat food into the air. She shouts excitedly: “Cat food!” She’s smug, “Obviously a clue.”

The group quickly gather around Bev, Mrs. Kaspbrak snatches the can out of her hand and examines it. She says eyes narrowed and tone blank, “That’s him.”

The can is thrown over her shoulder and she walks off with her hands in her pockets. Bev runs after the can and picks it up, scowling at the retreating adult. Mrs. Kaspbrak continues down the hill, unhurried. Scout Master Harrington watches him, concerned. He turns, to Mr. Kaspbrak. He asks - uneasy, “Where's she going?”

A shrug is his answer, before Mr. Kaspbrak follows the steps of his wife.

Captain Hopper ignores all of this, turning to the rest of the group and saying briskly:

**“** All right. We know they're together. We know they're within a certain radius of his spot. Until help arrives,” Captain Hopper looks to Scout Master Harrington as he points to various scouts and divides the group into teams: “Steve, you drop-in and head up-river with your troop, then split-up on foot.”

Two scouts, tiny figures, being watched through a pair of binoculars - pull the camouflage net off the hidden canoe.

Eddie watches from behind the aforementioned binoculars while Richie crouches eagerly besides him. They are hidden behind a pile of rocks. Eddie comments ominously; “They found the canoe.”

Richie seems angry at himself, “Rats!” He whispers, frustrated, “I should’ve put more pine needles on it,” He huffs, lifts his backpack up and slings his air-rifle over his arm, “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

Eddie lets his binoculars slip so they rest on his chest, held there by short strings. He bends and picks up his suitcase. Richie reaches out and links their hands. walk down a narrow path through a thicket, emerging into a small clearing.

Richie and Eddie stop in their tracks.

Stan, Bev, Mike, and Ben stand in a row along the edge of the woods ahead of them. Stan brandishes his hunting knife. Bev, and Mike point their bows and arrows. Ben holds his walking stick as a weapon. The wire-haired terrier strains growling at the end of his leash.

Stan jerks him back. The kitten cowers. The sound of a motorcycle echoes around the woods, and Bill bursts through the trees, pops a wheelie, and skids to a stop. He lifts his goggles.

The motor idles. Richie says finally: “What do you  _ assholes  _ want?”

Bill shrugs and answers with a callous smile, “We're looking for you.”

“Why?”

A smirk.

“Because you're a fugitive.”

Richie looks frustrated, “Oh, I’m  _ sorry _ . Didn't you get my letter of resignation? I quit the Khaki Scouts.”

**“** You're still in uniform.”

There’s a pause, Riche reaches up and quickly takes off his shirt before he throws it aside.

Bill scoffs, “W--well, it doesn't m-matter, a-anyway. You d-d-don't have that au-authority. Now are you going to come along p-peacefully or n-n-not?”

Richie takes a deep breath. He pleads: “Listen to some reason: I don't like you.

You don't like me. Why don't you stupid idiots just let us disappear?”

Bill pauses, considering; “It's t-tempting, but I c-can't allow i-it.” He looks to Eddie, he begins to speak with authority, “W-w-we know him a lot b-b-better than you, trust u-us on this. You s-s-shouldn’t b-be friends w-w-with him. H-He-He’s dangerous.” He gestures to Mike, “Mike, t-tie him up.”

Mike takes a step forward with his bow and arrow pointed and ready. Eddie looks furious. Richie flips his air-rifle off his shoulder with a twirl. He points it at Bill and Mike. Mike hesitates. Richie ,motions to a twig on the ground in front of him, “Do not cross this stick.” He says darkly.

There’s silence.

“You’re do-do-doomed Tozier.” With that Bill revs the motor, pops the clutch and races across the clearing towards the pair. The rest of the troop converges, yelling manically. 

The wide canyon echoes with shouts, screams, and a minor explosion. One by one, Bev, Stan, Mike, and Ben come running out of the trees and down the hill.

Finally, Bill hobbles after them, limping and groaning and clutching his side.

\--

Bill’s charred, partially demolished motorcycle smoldering in the branches of a tree.

Eddie stands on the edge of the ravine staring at the pair of bloody scissors in his hand. He looks shaken. Richie takes the scissors, cleans them carefully with his fingers, and hands them back to Eddie. He says gently, “It was him or us.” 

Eddie nods, he turns away slowly, his eyes widen; “Oh, no.”

He points. The wire-haired terrier lies on his back on the ground with an arrow sticking out between his shoulder blades. The kitten licks at the wound. Richie and Eddie run over

to the wounded dog. Richie crouches down, gently presses the kitten away, and says bleakly:

“They got Snoopy through the neck.”

Eddie has tears in his eyes. He slides his hands under the wire-haired terrier's body. He begins to hyperventilate as he speaks, “He needs a doctor.” 

Richie puts his finger to the wire-haired terrier's neck. He responds**; “**No, he doesn't. He needs a morgue.” 

Eddie desperately attempts to catch his breath, “He's losing blood. Hurry. Where do we go?

Eddie attempts lifts the bleeding dog into his arms. Richie grabs him by the shoulders. He locks eyes with him and says with grit and melodrama; “Eds, look at me. Snoopy’s not going to make it.” 

Tears began to leak from Eddie’s cloudy eyes, “Don’t say that. He’s dying! We can’t just leave him.”

Richie shakes his head, looking morose; “They’re after us. We have to move,” He sees how reluctant Eddie is to leave the poor dog, “It's too late! He's already gone!” He shouts.

Eddie looks up at him - angry, “Stop yelling at me!”

Richie slaps Eddie in the face. He falls silent. Richie says slowly: “I'm sorry I had to do that, but you're panicking. The first rule in any emergency is you never --”

Eddie drops the wire-haired terrier which hits the ground with a thud. He hits Richie back with a huge, roundhouse smack. Richie falls over sideways. Eddie stands over him.

**“** Don't ever do that again. No one's ever allowed to slap me.”

Richie stands up and dusts himself off. He and Eddie stare down at the lifeless animal. Eddie says quietly: “You're right. He's dead.”

Richie reaches into a side-pocket of his back-pack and takes out an army-shovel. He assembles it. 

Eddie says hopefully, “Was he a good dog?”

There’s a haunting pause. Richie shrugs. He says distantly, even cosmically: “Who's to say -- but he didn't deserve to die.”

Eddie slowly wraps his arm around Richie’s shoulder. They squeeze each other tightly. Richie sighs. 

He begins to dig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter but, I had to put something out there i was going crazy re-writing it, I didn't really wanna make the losers as antagonistic as the OG khaki scouts but there needed to be some,,, divide? so theres resolution later 
> 
> idk but let me know what u think!


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